Code Pink
by Book.Wretched
Summary: A two-part Romitri one shot that takes place several years after Last sacrifice. Dimitri befriends Christian and Lissa's daughter. But when his guardian skills fail save him from this six-year-old tyrant, will Rose come to his rescue?
1. Chapter 1

**DPOV**

We're trapped.

For the first time in my life, my training is useless. My hands are secured with an impossibly complicated knot and the rope cuts into my wrists as I carefully manoeuvre my cell phone out of my pocket.

Sitting across from me, Christian's eyes are wide with terror. He knows what I'm going to do, but he's restrained in a similar fashion to me, and therefore can't do much to prevent it. He shoots me a pleading glance, but this situation is now beyond me. The time for pride has long since passed.

Finally, he nods his head. With his permission, behind my back I type out some approximation of "Help. Code Pink." I can't see the screen, so I can only hope the message is readable.

After fumbling around for a few seconds, the sound indicates that my message has been delivered.

Having done all I can, I slump back in my tiny seat.

 _Rose. Please hurry._

* * *

Six hours earlier, I had just been heading back to the apartment for lunch. My grounds patrol was tedious and uneventful and I was looking forward to last night's leftover pasta.

It happened to be one of those rare occasions where Rose and I were actually able to have lunch together. Realising what this would mean for me, I picked up my pace. If I didn't get back before her, she'd finish all the pasta and I'd have to make myself something else. I love her, but she's like a living vacuum.

I was walking along a corridor inside the palace when I felt a tug on my duster. Knowing how much I love it added to the convenient fact that she's the queen, Lissa pulled some strings to get me special permission to wear it as part of my uniform. Dating her best friend probably helped too.

I looked down to meet a serious pair of turquoise eyes.

"Princess," I said in surprise, "How may I help you?"

Princess Anarosa Dragomir-Ozera already had something of her mother's regal air at the tender age of six. While both of her parents had a place in the colour of her eyes, she'd inherited her mother's slight build as well as her porcelain skin. Her hair was much darker than Lissa's though; in time it would eventually turn black like her father's. The princess' fiery temper left little doubt as to which element she'd specialize in or which parent she takes after.

"I'm bored," she said, her tone already reflecting that of someone who always gets their way. Unlike many people five times her age, she didn't appear daunted by my height in the slightest.

"Maybe you should go back to your playroom," I suggested. She didn't seem to like the idea- clearly she didn't want to play with any of the toys she owned, that were so numerous that it would be physically impossible to cram another one in there.

"You're Aunty Rose's husband," she said. It wasn't a question.

I suppressed a sigh. While there was no doubt that I'd drag Rose to an altar someday, for the present she remained stubborn and… well, Rose. However, I wasn't about to explain my relationship to a six-year-old.

"Something like that," I conceded.

"You speak funny," she informed me.

I tried to hide my smile. "Yes, I suppose I do," I agreed.

I found her innocent bluntness refreshing. She appeared to be a serious child, more like a miniature adult. I supposed the pressure of being a Dragomir princess could do that. But maybe underneath it all there was still a little childlike playfulness.

"It's because I grew up somewhere else," I explained.

She paused to think about that.

"Come, Uncle Tree," she said as she turned and started walking away, expecting me to follow.

I hesitated. "I really should be going…"

"Now," she ordered, with a pout that rivaled her aunt's. She managed to insert a surprising amount of authority into that one word.

Technically, the princess was a royal and I, as a guardian, couldn't disobey a direct order. I shrugged.

Rose had probably finished the pasta by that point and, truth be told, I felt a little sorry for Ana. Her parents were busy for most of the day and she had no siblings or even friends to play with. I followed her to her playroom.

It was tastefully decorated, considering that everything was pink. While my sisters would have killed for a room like this when they were growing up, I just had the uncomfortable sensation that I was walking into a marshmallow. It was certainly fluffy enough.

The princess walked over to a small table in the corner of the room. Pink plastic chairs surrounded it. Some were occupied by various stuffed animals and dolls, but she took an empty seat and gestured to another one across from her.

"Sit," she said.

I frowned. Royal status aside, she really should learn to be more polite. I decided that if she wanted me to amuse her, she could at least say please.

I crossed my arms. "No," I replied, simply.

Her mouth popped open in a highly amusing display of surprise, making it difficult for me to keep a straight face. Her surprise was replaced by confusion, her tiny brow furrowing.

"Why not?" she asked.

"Maybe I would, if you asked nicely," I said, raising an eyebrow.

Though she obviously knew what I wanted her to say, the concept seemed new to her.

"Please?" she said tentatively.

I nodded and walked over to my designated pink chair. With great difficulty and no small amount of strategic limb placement, I managed to wedge myself into the tiny seat with my knees tucked right under my chin. I silently prayed that I would be able to get out again.

My loss of dignity proved not to be a waste, as it elicited a laugh from the princess. I smiled in return.

"What now?" I asked.

She paused to think about it.

"A tea party," she said, and promptly disappeared underneath the table.

She resurfaced moments later with a pink picnic basket, which proved to contain a delicate china tea set that she began to lay out on the table.

Having grown up with three sisters, I was no stranger to tea parties. While we never used antique china, I doubted the fundamentals would be all that different.

Apart from the fact that the little princess used real food instead of her imagination (thankfully solving my lunch problem) the concept was the same.

"Will you pour Hector a cup of tea?" asked the princess.

"Of course," I said, glancing uncertainly around at our numerous guests.

The pale brown horse in a tutu that was seated next to me struck me as the most likely candidate, so I filled his cup. Princess Anarosa didn't correct me, so I must've gotten his name right.

I looked at the horse and kept my expression serious as I asked him how many sugars he took.

"He doesn't take sugar, he's diabetic," chided the princess.

I addressed the horse once more. "My apologies," I said, placing the cup in front of him.

A short while later, a glance at my watch told me it was time for me to start my next shift.

"Princess," I said, "it's time for me to leave now."

Her face fell. "But we're not done playing," she moaned.

I tried to reassure her. "I can come back some other time, then we can finish our tea party."

She didn't reply, but looked sulkily down at her plate so I scooted my chair out from the table.

"Goodbye then, Princess Anarosa, Hector," I said, nodding politely to each in turn before standing up.

Or rather, I would've stood up if I could get out of my tiny chair.

When all efforts to free my hips from the pink plastic failed, I attempted to use my legs to flip onto my feet, but they were folded too tightly and the seat was too low. While my attempts grew more and more desperate, the princess did nothing but watch.

Finally, after I had exhausted all possibilities, I had to face the facts. I was stuck in a tiny pink children's chair. This was not good.

"You can't get out?" the Princess asked me with wide eyes.

I grimaced. "Um. No."

A strange expression crossed her face, but it was gone before I could place it.

"I'll go fetch Papa," she informed me.

"No, that really won't be neces…" but she'd already gone.

 _Govno,_ I cursed internally.

Further struggling seemed to make matters worse and the plastic was biting into my skin quite painfully by the time the Princess returned, followed by a confused looking Christian.

"Who needs help?" he asked his daughter as he walked through the doors.

She pointed a finger in my direction and said in an exasperated tone, "Uncle Tree, Papa."

Christian stared at me for a moment, like he couldn't quite understand what was happening. Then a smile spread across his face.

"Oh," he said, grinning like a chipmunk, "I was wondering why you didn't show up for your shift. What seems to be the problem, Belikov?"

That ass knew perfectly well what the problem was and I gave him a few choice words under my breath.

"Sorry, I didn't quite catch that," Christian said, sounding like he was barely holding back his laughter.

I scowled at him. "I'm stuck."

His internal dam burst. He let out a gale of laughter so forceful that I hoped he'd bust a rib. Tears were rolling down his face and he didn't show any signs of stopping until Princess Anarosa drew back her arm and punched him in the thigh.

"Don't laugh at Uncle Tree," she said with a face like a stormcloud.

It definitely stopped him laughing.

He rubbed his thigh furiously and then gingerly crouched down.

"Anarosa," he said sternly, "It's not nice to hit people."

She crossed her arms.

"Okay, now let's see about getting you out of there," he said, turning to address me. "I assume fire magic is off the table?"

"There's enough Polyester in here to start a bonfire," I replied icily. "Your choice."

No way was I endangering my duster.

"Fine," he sighed.

He pulled up one of the other chairs and started studying it.

"We basically just need to get one of the arms off," he said, fingering the plastic. "Dammit, Belikov, why did you get into one of these things in the first place? It's clearly too small."

I raised an eyebrow. "Thanks a bunch," I dryly remarked.

"Help him, Papa," whined the princess.

Her tone gave him a pained expression. "I'm trying, Ana," he said, apparently eager to keep her happy.

A few moments later, I could see why.

The Princess' eyes filled with tears and she started to emit a high pitched squeal that must've been the single most irritating sound on the planet.

Christian looked worried. "Sshh, Ana."

She started to speak, taking huge gulps of air between words.

"It's all…my fault," she wailed, " I thought… he would fit… because you would… and you're so smart… and…" She trailed off into incoherent sobs.

I'd never been more thankful that two dhamphirs couldn't have children.

His expression was now frantic, it was clear he'd do anything to get her to stop.

"Ssh, Ana, ssh," he soothed in a desperate tone. "See, look, Ana! Look, I do fit!"

Before I could stop him, he'd planted himself firmly on one of the chairs. The princess stopped crying immediately.

I mirrored Christian's look of relief until she started giggling instead.

"Yay!" she crowed, clapping her tiny hands in delight. "You're my prisoners!"

I was so dumbstruck at being outsmarted by a six year old that I didn't feel her tying up my hands until it was too late.

"Your daughter is a psychopath," I informed Christian calmly.

"Uh…yeah. She does appear to be," he agreed as the final knot was tied on his own restraints. Did I detect a note of pride in his voice?

We're trapped.

While the Princess is off rummaging through a cupboard, I work my phone out of my pocket and type out a message to Rose.

 _They'll never let us live this down,_ Christian says with his eyes from across the table.

I give him a look back and he sags in defeat. The time for pride has passed.

I manage to send the message and silently pray that Rose reads it soon.

I've just gotten my phone back into my pocket when the princess returns with something in her hands.

As she moves closer to me, I can see that it's a tub full of sparkly pink clips and hair-ties.

"You have pretty hair, Uncle Tree," she informs me.

As I feel the first tug on my scalp, I know that resistance is futile. I'm not a vain man, but I can almost hear the knots forming.

 _It's going to take hours to comb this out,_ I think, wincing. _Rose, please hurry!_

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 _ **Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did (or didn't and have some criticism) and wish to tell me so, please review! Your support and suggestions mean so much to me. Whether you favourite or not is up to you, but I strongly recommend it. Then again, I may be slightly biased.**_

 _ **I was slightly worried about this one, I hope it turned out okay. If all goes according to plan, there will be a second chapter from Rose's POV.**_

 _ **Shout out to my fabulous Beta reader NB313! Go check out her stuff, I promise you won't be disappointed!**_

 _ **I don't own Vampire Academy or the characters therein.**_


	2. Chapter 2

**RPOV**

I'm striding along the corridor, which leads back from the throne room, so busy looking out for potential threats that at first I don't notice that Lissa isn't beside me. I spin around, instantly alert, to see my best friend leaning against a wall a few paces back.

Her face is pale as she places a hand on her enormous belly. I'm immediately by her side.

"Liss, are you okay?" I ask concerned, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She shoots me a glare that soothes my worry. "I'm fine, Rose. Just lugging around another person everywhere I go."

I grin, now that I know she's okay. "You didn't have to call the council meeting in the throne room," I remind her, "You are the queen, you know. You could have called it in the bathroom and they still would've come."

Lissa laughs briefly, but then grimaces. My worry returns, and I lead her over to one of the benches placed strategically along the path. She sits down heavily and I lower myself into the seat beside her.

"Yeah," she smiles, masking her discomfort. "Christian would love the idea of me going into one of the bathrooms with Isaac Conta."

I laugh with her, imagining Christians face.

"You know," I tease, "He does have a point. Half the men in court would love to get you alone, married or not."

She rolls her eyes. "Like I could even fit through a normal doorway like this," she says, gesturing to her stomach, then she smirks at me. "And besides, you're in more danger than I am; you're not even married."

I groan. Not this again.

Dimitri, Lissa and Christian had all started pestering me lately to set a date for the wedding. I have a sneaky feeling that Dimitri's behind it, but I'd managed to keep him quiet using my feminine charms and Christian with a few well-placed punches. Lissa, however, knows that I'd never hurt her and as such is annoyingly persistent.

"Anyone can see you two are crazy about each other," she continues, "Why not just make it official?"

I don't respond, glancing at my watch to buy myself some time. I resort to the only tactic left in my artillery; avoidance.

"Aw, shoot. My shift ended seven minutes ago!" I exclaim, but she sees right through me.

"Rose, just…" but I don't let her finish.

"Got to go, Liss, see you later!"

"Rosemarie Hathaway!" she yells after me as I sprint away. "You cannot leave your pregnant queen unguarded!"

But I'm already rounding the corner and heading towards the stairs, passing her replacement guardian on the way.

"Guardian Hathaway," he nods in greeting, and I respond in kind.

"Guardian Taylor."

Then I hurry up the stairs.

I'm not rushing because I'm worried about Lissa coming after me to continue her line of questioning; she couldn't catch up to me even if she didn't have a beach-ball-belly weighing her down and obscuring her feet.

Today Dimitri's schedule lines up with my own so we can actually have lunch together for once. I just need to get back to the apartment first because there's some left-over pasta in the fridge with my name on it. Don't get me wrong, I love the man, but Dimitri could clear out the entire kitchen for a light snack. And I'm a growing girl.

I reach the door just a little out of breath, finding that it's still locked. I can't help my tiny victory dance in the hallway; since my legs are half the length of his I don't beat him very often. I complete my silly display of joy, thankful that nobody was around to witness it, before unlocking the door.

I put my keys on the coffee table and then go into the kitchen to fetch plates and cutlery. There's more pasta left than I thought, so in a moment of kindness, I divide it between the two plates then heat it in the microwave.

By the time I've laid the table and set the two steaming plates of pasta down, my stomach sounds like a tractor engine and Dimitri still hasn't showed up. After waiting another five minutes, I figure he won't mind if I start without him.

I savour every bite of the creamy cheese sauce, eating slower than usual while waiting for the sound of the front door. I hear footsteps several times, but none of them stop outside and before I know it I've finished my food.

I take out my phone and dial his number. It rings, but he doesn't answer and it goes to voicemail.

"Belikov," says his recorded voice. "Leave a message."

"What's the holdup, Comrade?" I say after the beep. "Call me."

But my phone remains stubbornly silent after I hang up.

 _Well,_ I think angrily. _If he thinks he can keep me waiting, he's got another thing coming._

I pull his plate of now lukewarm pasta towards me and start eating. It's not long before I've polished that one off too, so I get up, wash the dishes and then check my watch. It's almost time for my next shift.

I try his phone again, with the same result, before heading down to the guardian office, grumbling to myself the whole way there.

I greet the young guardian at the counter who stares at me in awe.

"I believe there were some files I was asked to look over?" I say, ignoring his expression.

He doesn't react and I clear my throat.

"Oh, er, yes!" he stammers, suddenly coming to life and flushing bright red. "Of course, Guardian Hathaway." Then he disappears behind the counter.

I drum my fingers on the counter as I wait, still internally hurling insults at Dimitri.

"Here," the guardian says, placing a stack of files in front of me.

"Thank you," I say with a smile, tucking them under my arm. "Guardian…"

"Oh, er, Strauss," he says, going red again.

I nod. "Guardian Strauss."

I turn and start walking away, but a familiar voice calls me back.

"Hathaway," barks Hans. "A word."

I follow him through the corridors to his office, where he turns and offers me a seat.

"How can I help?" I ask, keeping my tone professional and polite.

"We had a tip from a guardian in the field about a Strigoi nest," he says. "It'll take some co-ordinating, but I want you to lead the raid."

It's an immense tribute to Dimitri's teaching that I keep a straight face. Ever since the Moroi Attack initiative, Strigoi numbers have been dwindling. And despite the good things I've done, I'm fully aware that many higher ranked and more experienced guardians have been passed over to give me this opportunity.

"I'd be honoured, Sir," I say, with genuine surprise.

He nods. "I also wanted to ask your opinion on sending some Moroi with the guardians. You've seen them in action, what do you think?"

I pause to consider this. "It'll depend on the layout of the nest," I say, "but I'll discuss it with the King."

Hans accepts this with another nod and allows me to leave, turning to some files on his desk. As I open the door, he looks up and calls, "Oh, and send Belikov to me when you see him. He was supposed to meet with me."

I pause with my hand on the doorknob. "You haven't seen him?" I ask.

"No," he replies.

"We were supposed to have lunch, but he didn't show," I explain, now starting to worry.

He sits up straighter in his chair. "He probably just switched shifts with someone," he says, studying my expression with a frown. "Don't worry about him, he can handle himself."

I nod, turning to go through the door.

Despite his reassurances, I can't shake the small seed of dread that seems to have taken root in the pasta I'm digesting.

I know Dimitri's schedule by heart. _He should be on duty, guarding Christian,_ I think. So I need to find Christian.

I hurry up the stairs to Lissa's room, opening the door without knocking.

She looks up from her desk and smirks when she sees me.

"Why, if it isn't Mrs Belikov-"

I cut her off. "Where's Christian?" I demand.

She's about to reprimand me when she sees my face.

"I don't know," she says frowning, "I haven't seen him. Rose, what's wrong?" Her face is concerned.

I start pacing. "It's Dimitri," I tell her. "He didn't show for lunch and he missed a meeting with Hans."

"Relax, Rose," she soothes, "He probably switched shifts with someone."

I shake my head. "He would have called me!" I say, starting to panic.

"Have you phoned him?" she asks, her brow furrowing.

"He's not answering," I reply, annoyed by her line of questioning.

"Okay, calm down, I'll call Christian."

I try to do as she says while she takes her phone out and dials. I pace up and down, taking deep breaths while trying to come up with possibilities.

"He isn't picking up," Lissa says, worry now in her voice too. "Let me make a few more calls."

She stands up with a grunt and I help her waddle over to the couch. She tries to get me to sit next to her, but I resume my pacing as she talks to various people. I try to tune out her conversations as I focus on keeping calm. Finally she hangs up.

"He was in a meeting this morning, but nobody's seen him since lunch time," there's a definite note of panic in her voice now.

"I'll be right back," I say.

I find another guardian and send them to her room while I search in every place I can think of. He's not patrolling the courtyard and there's nobody in Christian's study. There are a few guardians and Moroi training in the gym, but none have the right height or hair colour. After drawing a blank in the surveillance room too, I make my way back to Lissa.

"Anything?" she asks, looking up hopefully as I enter, but my expression says it all and she sags back into the couch. She dials Christian's number again but gets the same result as the last hundred times she tried.

Suddenly, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I wrench it out with shaking fingers.

"It's him!" I almost shout, "It's Dimitri!" My relief is evident in every syllable.

Lissa looks up. "Is he okay? Is he with Christian?" Her face is drawn with worry.

My relief is replaced with confusion as I open the message.

 _Gelp. Codr oink_

What?

Despite the fact that it's his second language, Dimitri is a stickler for spelling and grammar. I could count the amount of typos he's ever sent on one hand.

"What is it?" Lissa asks, getting frantic. "What does it say?"

I walk over to where she's sitting and show her the text.

"Codr oink?" she sounds as confused as I am.

"He's either drunk or in trouble," I say.

She nods in agreement. "It's like he typed it without looking at the screen."

My face lights up. "That's it! Lissa, you're a genius!"

"What?" she asks. "Rose, what?"

"Look," I say, pointing to my keyboard. "G is right next to H. He meant help!"

My excitement drains away as this information sinks in. I look over at Lissa in panic, but she's studying the keyboard intently.

"And look how close 'r' and 'e' are. It's supposed to say 'code'."

I look down and see that she's right.

"Okay, 'Help. Code oink'," I say, fighting to remain calm. "He's trying to tell us where he is. But oink?"

She seems as stumped as I am. "Get me a pen and some paper," she instructs. "Then try phoning him again."

I do as she says, dialling his number as Lissa starts scribbling furiously. As before, it rings and then goes to voicemail. Even though I know it's futile by this point, after the tone I can't help but hiss, "Dimitri Belikov, I swear, after I find you, your phone's GPS will be on permanently."

I hang up and stare dejectedly out the window until Lissa calls me over.

"Okay," she says, "I've narrowed it down."

She shows me her list, but the amount of letters and scratching out renders it illegible to my distracted brain.

As if sensing this, Lissa begins, "I thought that the 'o' was the most likely to be wrong, so I substituted it with the surrounding letters and got three choices. I sincerely hope it's not 'Code kink'," she shudders.

Despite my worry, I smile a little. "No," I agree. "What are the others?"

"If I'm right, it's either 'link' or 'pink'," she says, looking up at me. "Either of those mean anything to you?"

I wrack my brain.

"Well there is a Guardian Lincoln who everyone calls 'Linc'. But it's not spelt the same and I'm pretty sure he was transferred to England anyway, so that doesn't really make sense," I say. "But then neither does 'pink'."

I let out a frustrated sigh. I know Dimitri! Surely I should be able to think like he does, decipher this message that was obviously perfectly clear to him?

Lissa's gone back to her scribbling, but she looks up again when I speak. "If I were Dimitri, I'd try describing something," I muse. "Something about my surroundings, something distinct to let us know where he is. But I don't get it. Where is there any pink in the castle?"

Suddenly, Lissa's face goes white.

"Rose," her voice is strangled. "Ana's playroom is pink! It's Ana!"

Her eyes are wide and her hands are shaking, but she calms down as a thought occurs to her.

"No, wait, the nanny would have told us if something had happened," she breathes, sinking back into her chair. "She would have come to find me."

"Er, Liss?" I say carefully, not wanting to freak her out again. "Didn't you tell me yesterday that the nanny's away for two weeks, visiting her sister?"

Her eyes widen once more before they lock with mine.

"Go!" she says, but I'm already out the door.

I race down the hall, drawing my stake as I go. I wrench the door open and freeze in shock.

Across the room at the tiny table, the lower half of Christian's face is covered in vivid scarlet. I'm by his side in three steps.

"Christian," I say in my guardian voice, calm but firm. "Where does it hurt? Where's Ana?"

"Rose!" he exclaims. "You're here!"

"Yes," I say. "Tell me what happened."

But I'm distracted by a familiar voice coming from my right. "Roza! _Slava Bogu!_ "

"Dimitri!" I almost a sob. I turn towards him, intending to hurl myself at him, but instead I almost scream. His hair, his beautiful long brown hair, is sticking up in a hundred different directions like someone attacked him with a razor.

"Isn't he pretty?" says a delighted voice behind me. Slowly, my emotional high at finding them safe wares off and I realize that an explanation is required.

I turn and crouch down next to the tiny princess, leveling my gaze with hers.

"Ana," I say calmly, "What happened here?"

She grins at me. "Papa and Uncle Tree are my prisoners!" she cries jovially.

I face the two men and study the scene once again, more closely now that I know they're not in danger. They both look at their feet, avoiding my gaze.

What I thought was blood on Christian's face appears to be red lipstick smeared liberally around his mouth. Violent pink eyeshadow is streaked around his eyes, with black splotches that must be mascara and glitter on his cheeks and in his hair.

I shift my attention to Dimitri and the hairstyle that I understandably mistook as a sign that he'd been attacked. I can now see the faint sparkles of the glittery pink hairbands and fake butterflies through his tangled locks. There's one knotted attempt at a plait trailing into his face and I'm pretty sure I can detect several broken comb teeth in the hopeless clumps.

I'm desperately trying not to laugh, and I succeed until I notice that both of them are wedged tightly into tiny pink plastic kiddie's chairs, with their hands tied behind their backs. And that's when I physically cannot hold it back any more.

I double over as my laughter echoes off the walls, tears streaming down my face. I quickly reach the point where I can't draw breath, and it comes out in a strangled wheeze while my face glows red. I'm struggling to control my bladder because I'm laughing so hard, and the fact that I can feel the stony glares of the guys only makes it worse.

Eventually, hiccuping and gasping for air, I compose myself enough to take my phone out my pocket and snap a picture to send to Lissa. I ignore their indignant shouts as the flash goes off and I add a caption, still wheezing slightly.

 _Everyone's okay, but you have to see this!_ I type, and then hit send.

I look at Christian and Dimitri, and the latter raises an eyebrow as I work to control my expression.

"Are you done?" he asks.

I clear my throat before answering, my voice slightly hoarse. "Yes. Sorry." I say, though I'm not.

"Can you help us out of these?" asks Christian, wincing. "I kind of can't feel my legs."

I take out my knife and cut through their bonds then, kneeling down to examine the joints of the chair, I manage to free them by sawing through the base of each chair's left arm. The entire process takes about fifteen minutes.

Christian remains in a crouch, trying to rub some feeling back into his legs, while Dimitri gingerly stands and walks over to where Ana sits giggling on the carpet.

He stands close to her so that she has to crane her neck to look up into his disapproving face.

"Anarosa," he says, his tone stern. "Did you have fun?"

Her grin falters slightly, but it returns as she answers, "Yes, Uncle Tree!"

The kid's got guts, I'll give her that. I've been on the receiving end of that expression several times and not once was I able to smile back at him. While it's not the angriest I've ever seen him, I haven't seen him this mad in a while.

"And do you think that your father and I had fun?" continues Dimitri. It takes some skill to be that menacing with bunches of hair sticking out of your head.

This time her smile evaporates. "Yes?" she says, but her voice is softer and it comes out as a question.

"Well we didn't. At all," he tells her, and she looks at her feet in silence.

"You made Aunty Rose worry," he presses on, "And your mother too. They didn't know where we were."

The princess attempts to make herself as small as possible and Dimitri silently waits, watching her.

After a minute, she raises her head and looks up at him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Tree," she says, almost in a whisper.

Christian stares open mouthed from his position on the floor. The princess has a reputation as a spoiled child, but from the look of it he'd never heard her apologise before. It honestly wouldn't surprise me if he hadn't.

Dimitri lets her stew in her guilt for a few more moments, and then crouches down and puts a hand on her shoulder. It's comically large in contrast to the small princess.

"It's okay," he says gently. "But you have to promise not to do anything like this again. Okay?"

Tears spring to Ana's eyes as she nods. "I promise," she says.

Then she surprises Dimitri by hugging him. He freezes initially, but then he wraps an arm around her tiny frame.

He's good at so many things, it really shouldn't surprise me that he's so great with children. But I've seen him become a whirlwind of furious destruction, a vengeful Russian god. I can't help comparing that ferocious Dimitri to the gentle one crouching in front of me. And for the first time I feel the loss in my heart like a physical blow, because I'll never be able to give him children.

He whispers something in her ear before releasing her and she looks at him with wide eyes and nods. Then she runs off to Christian, who looks even more astounded when his daughter flings her arms around his neck and apologizes to him.

Dimitri walks over to me and takes my hand. He smiles down at me and I look at his beautiful face with his warm brown eyes, remembering when I thought I'd never see him again. Then my eyes move once again to the tufts of tangled hair surrounding his head like a halo on steroids and a grin spreads across my face.

He sees my expression and rolls his eyes.

I feel a tug on my other hand and look down to see Ana's turquoise eyes.

"I'm sorry I made you worry, Aunty Rose," she says.

Dimitri releases my hand and I bend over.

"I'm just glad they're okay," I tell her. "But you know what? Those knots you tied were pretty darn fantastic."

She giggles. "I can teach you, if you want," she tells me and I laugh.

"I may just take you up on that," I say.

The little princess gets a sneaky expression on her face, puts her hand to her mouth and stretches on tiptoes to bring her mouth closer to my ear. I obligingly turn my head.

"Aunty Rose," she whispers, her breath tickling my ear. "Uncle Tree is good."

I look up at Dimitri and smile, while he raises an enquiring eyebrow.

"Yes," I agree, turning back to her. "He is."

"You should marry him," she whispers again, and without waiting for a response, she skips back to her father.

"I need to go say sorry to Mama," she says, and he obligingly follows her out of the room.

I turn to Dimitri.

"You want me to get those out for you?" I ask with a grin.

There's a strange smirk on his face, but at my words his expression changes to one of fervent gratitude.

"Please," he replies, and sits down so I can reach.

I start with the clips, trying to be gentle, but it's difficult when his hair is so knotted.

When I move on to the hair ties it's even harder not to hurt him.

"Ow!" he complains when I yank on a particularly tricky one with tiny pink bows attached, jerking it out of my grasp.

"Hold still!" I reprimand him, "I nearly had it."

Other than that, I remain silent throughout the process, turning things over in my mind.

Once I'm done, I comb through his hair with my fingers; brushing it will have to wait until we have more time. He stands up.

"Thank you for rescuing me," he says with a smile, stroking my face with his long fingers.

"I thought I lost you," I tell him and his expression turns tender.

"I'll always find my way back to you, Roza," he says softly, then he laughs. "Strigoi, I can handle no problem. Princess Anarosa on the other hand…"

I laugh with him, covertly watching him as he throws his head back. Then I speak in a rush, before I can change my mind.

"March thirteenth," I say, and he stops laughing immediately.

"What?" he asks, studying my face.

"That gives us three months to plan the perfect wedding. You win."

I've never seen anyone so happy in my entire life.

He practically drags me along, back to Lissa's room where her and Christian are sitting watching Ana playing on the carpet.

"We're getting married on the thirteenth of March," he announces as we walk in, grinning like an idiot.

Lissa squeals and starts gushing about dresses and venues and guest lists, while Christian gets up and hugs me with a huge smile.

Out the corner of my eye, I see Dimitri crouch down by Ana on the rug, passing her something that looks like a ten dollar bill. Then he winks at her and walks over to join the celebration.

I briefly wonder what that was about, before I'm enveloped in a gigantic hug from Lissa, laughing at the awkward angle she has to hold herself to keep her belly out the way.

Dimitri, who still hasn't stopped smiling, wraps me in an embrace of his own, and in the warmth of his arms I realize that I've never been this happy.

* * *

Author's Note

* * *

 **The second chapter, as promised. Sorry it's a little (okay, a LOT) longer than my usual stuff, it just sort of... happened. But thank you for sticking with me and reading it, I really hope you enjoyed it! If you did (or didn't and have some criticism) please leave a review to let me know! You have no idea how much your support means to me. I would also recommend favouriting, but I may be slightly biased.**

 **Shout out to my unbeatable Beta reader, NB313! Her material is awesome, so why not head on over to her profile and give it a look?**

 **I don't own Vampire Academy, or any of the characters.**


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